The lengthy oak tree branches
swayed, with a summer breeze that didn’t cool
a goddamn thing, without direction for care
in my line of sight, changing
faces underneath the surface,
my anxiety boiled up to my throat,
causing me to cough and tears
to stream down my face.
I meandered through life
without a rhyme, reason
or her hand.
I stalked my self-esteem until
I found Ana strangling it.
I pushed her hands away.
I breathed in who I was in the present.
Ana’s long hair blew side-to-side
like violence, amber replaced
her emerald eyes.
I’m a victim of her low self-esteem.
But like peace, I guide her now
and after.

Twitter – @AC0040

(© 2023 AC)

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